


bleed the same

by ohfreckle



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Felching, Hurts So Good, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: That power is pouring off of Magnus in waves, his shoulders heaving with every labored breath, eyes still flashing golden. His face a mask of fury. Magnus is always so much more than a man, but it’s times like this when Alec can see the demon lurking in his depths, but he isn’t afraid. No, Magnus is resplendent in his wrath, commanding and sublime, and Alec suddenly can’t breathe for how much hewants.Magnus needs to let off a little steam after that clusterfuck of a party at Lorenzo's, and Alec is more than happy to help.





	bleed the same

**Author's Note:**

> Unredeemable filth, I'm so sorry. 
> 
> This fills two tumblr prompts: Alec wanting to be used and Magnus creampies Alec. It kind of ran away from me and I figured the wordcount is enough to post it as a standalone fic. 
> 
> If you want to yell at me on twitter while reading, I follow #frecklefic.

The noise tears through the loft like a gunshot.

Alec’s feet carry him to the apothecary without conscious thought, heart pounding in his chest, his mind a whirling loop of _Magnus, Magnus, Magnus_.

He finds the room in complete disarray, the clutter on Magnus’ work table gone and scattered on the floor instead, but to Alec’s gut-wrenching relief Magnus seems unharmed, sparks of magic still crackling at his fingertips. He turns when he hears Alec approach, his eyes blazing liquid gold, fury etched into every line of his face.

Alec doesn’t bother asking if he’s ok when he’s clearly not. Alec was there, watched Magnus suffer through that pompous asshole’s bullshit, etiquette demanding for him to smile and make nice when inside he was torn and screaming.

Still is, from the look of it.

Alec steps over the bottles and flasks littering the floor. He was about to shower before Magnus’s outburst, and so he’s barefoot and wearing just his boxers, carefully picking his way around any shards of glass. “Something still wrong with your magic?” he asks, even if he already knows the answer is No.

“I will stop him,” Magnus grits out, his nostrils flaring. “That idiot could have had us all killed tonight. Just standing by like that when his people needed his protection.” He flings out an arm, another ball of magic hovering over his palm, ready to explode.

“Hey,” Alec says, catching Magnus’ wrist before he can destroy even more of his most prized possessions. “ _We_ will stop him, and we will get your title back. But maybe not take it out on your books and supplies?” He gently strokes his thumb over Magnus’ racing pulse, over and over until he can feel Magnus’ magic simmer down to a low thrum, leaving only the occasional spark in its wake.

It’s a rush unlike anything Alec has ever known, that his touch is enough to comfort someone as powerful as Magnus.

That power is pouring off of Magnus in waves, his shoulders heaving with every labored breath, eyes still flashing golden. His face a mask of fury. Magnus is always so much more than a man, but it’s times like this when Alec can see the demon lurking in his depths, but he isn’t afraid. No, Magnus is resplendent in his wrath, commanding and sublime, and Alec suddenly can’t breathe for how much he _wants_.

He drops to his knees, blood thundering in his ears. “Take it out on me.”

“Alexander! I don’t think this is—”

“Please,” Alec breathes, tugging on Magnus’ wrist until he can nestle his cheek against Magnus’ palm. He knows he’s not playing fair, well aware that Magnus is incapable of denying him anything if he asks like that, but Magnus is already leaning into him, drawn in by pure instinct, and Alec—Alec needs Magnus.

“I’m—I’m not sure I can trust my magic yet.”

“I don’t want your magic, I want you,” Alec says. He leans forward, nosing over the front of Magnus’ pants, relishing the warm spread of Magnus’ palm that never leaves his face. “You don’t need magic to fuck me.” He exhales slowly, right over the bulge of Magnus’ cock. “Hard.”

He almost thinks he’s read Magnus wrong until a shiver runs through Magnus and his hand slides into Alec’s hair, tugging him close until he can feel the teeth of Magnus’ zipper press against his cheek.

“Well, then… I want your mouth, darling.” Magnus’ voice is low and gritty. Demanding.

Something warm and heavy settles into Alec’s gut and sends his heart racing. He pulls back just enough that he can open Magnus’ pants and tug his briefs down to reveal his half-hard cock.

“Hands behind your back,” Magnus instructs, sliding his other hand into Alec’s hair, too, reeling him in with a firm grip. “Get me hard.”

Alec sneaks in a small press of lips to Magnus’s groin, snaking out his tongue to taste the salt of his skin before he purses his mouth over the soft head in a kiss. He takes his time, sliding down the shaft slowly, groaning with unabashed pleasure. God, Alec loves this, the taste and feel of cock on his tongue, Magnus’ soft flesh growing firmer with every gentle suck until even breathing through his noise becomes difficult and Alec has to pull off with a gasp. He gets to take three deep breaths until Magnus reels him in again, pushing the slick head of his cock between Alec’s lips with a quiet drawn-out _Ah_.

Chancing a look up the sight of Magnus with his head thrown back in pleasure is almost Alec’s undoing, his cock jerking in his boxers, the need throbbing under his skin nearly impossible to ignore. But that’s what Magnus wants, so Alec knots his fingers together behind his back even more firmly and lets himself get lost in the pleasure of sucking cock. He teases the slit with the tip of his tongue until Magnus’ cock pulses and coats his tongue with thick drops of precome that he smears back over the head, curling his tongue and rubbing over the sensitive spot under the crown that makes Magnus’ whole body lock tight.

“Fuck, Alec!” Magnus jerks, pushing deeper into Alec’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat with a muttered curse.

Alec whines and stills, tries to tell Magnus without words _yes, finally_ and _keep going_. Whatever thoughts Alec had still left flee his mind. Tears are springing to his eyes, and all he can do is to somehow suck in enough air around the girth stretching his lips, to keep his jaw wide and mind his teeth while Magnus fucks his mouth with long, smooth strokes.

He’s a mess, face wet with tears and spit that Magnus rubs into his skin, one hand coming round to cup Alec’s cheek, thumb stroking over his tightly stretched lips and cheek, feeling himself move in Alec’s mouth.

It’s filthy and _right_ because this is Magnus taking his pleasure and that’s all that matters. Alec feels the echo in his own body, loves the sheer physicality of it, the tension in his gut coiling tighter every time Magnus rolls his hips and pushes into him roughly. Alec’s own cock is leaking into his boxers, his hips riding the empty air. Fuck, he’s so close. If only he could get a bit of friction, just the heel of his hand would be enough. Maybe if he—

“Don’t come!”

Magnus pulls out with a low groan, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. The sight of those ring-clad fingers squeezing Magnus’ hard length, glistening with precome and Alec’s spit, hits Alec like a punch to the gut. He sucks in harsh, deep breaths, teetering on the edge and willing his body not to come.

A crackle of magic finally distracts Alec enough to calm his body. Accepting Magnus’ hand he stands, looking around to find Magnus’ work table almost doubled in size.

“Over the table, darling, face down,” Magnus orders, his low and firm voice sending another rush of heat through Alec’s blood.

Arranging himself carefully on the table, Alec hears Magnus take his clothes off, the rustle of fabric only fueling the desire that’s already flaring hot and bright again. Closing his eyes he pictures Magnus’ chest, hard muscle under soft pampered skin Alec itches to touch; those muscular arms and shoulders that are more than capable of holding him down and make him forget the chaos that is their lives for a few blissful hours.

“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Magnus says, so raw and honest it takes Alec’s breath away.

Alec feels him step up behind him, stroking a single finger down his spine and the seam of his ass, raising goosebumps in its wake. He grips the opposite edge of the table and spreads his legs wider, showing off his hole and the heavy hang of his cock and balls, desperate to elicit a firmer touch.

And Magnus takes him up on it.

He steps between Alec’s legs and folds himself over his back, skin against skin—oh god, _finally_ — the necklaces pressing against Alec’s spine the only thing that’s separating them.

“Spread out for me in supplication.” The softest of kisses tingles against the top of Alec’s spine, so feather-light he almost thinks he imagines it. “Have no fear, darling, I’ll give you what you need.” Magnus pulls back and stands, one palm coming down on Alec’s left asscheek, the sound ringing through the silent loft. “Eventually.”

Alec’s expected it, _hoped_ for it, but the sharp sting still takes him by surprise. He’s still breathing through the shock of it and mourning the loss of Magnus’ heat against his back when another blow lands on his other cheek.

Alec’s whole body flares up with sharp excitement, and he tilts his hips back as much as his position allows, angling his ass back into Magnus’ touch.

“Now you’re just greedy, darling. I think we’ll leave that for another time,” Magnus chides, right before he slaps Alec hard, one, two, three, four hard blows that make his cheeks bounce and leave him reeling.

“Magnus, please…”

“What is it, Alexander?” Magnus palms his cheeks and parts them, his thumbs sliding through Alec’s crease, never touching him where he needs it. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” Alec slurs, digging his fingers into the underside of the table to keep himself from reaching back and slotting his hands over Magnus’. He’s burning up inside out, torn between the familiar burning sensation in his gut and the heat suffusing his cheeks. “Fuck me. Magnus, I _need_ it.”

It’s the right answer and earns him a slick tap against his hole. _Two_ is all the warning he gets before Magnus slides right in where it’s deep and hot, and all Alec can do is gasp through the initial burn and will his muscles to relax while Magnus opens him up. He’s used to it by now, craves it, relishing every part of Magnus inside of him; soft or rough, doesn’t matter who does what to whom, as long as he’s with Magnus Alec just _wants_.

“Yeah, yeah, come on,” he breathes, clenching down on the fingers moving more easily inside of him now.

“Behave, darling!”

A firm stroke against his prostate has Alec gasp out an urgent moan. He contracts helplessly, willing his body to relax, not wanting to chance his luck when he’s this close to having Magnus’s cock. Three fingers are an even tighter fit, but Alec holds himself very still, even though the press of Magnus’ knuckles against his rim as he fingers him open drives him wild. He can do this; he can be good, his fluttering hole and his dripping cock the only parts of his body he can’t control.

“Deep breath,” Magnus instructs when he finally deems Alec ready. To anyone else, he might sound unaffected, but Alec can hear the tightness in his voice, feels the same need vibrating through him. “Think you’re ready? I still want you tight.”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes, his blood racing with anticipation. He’s been ready for what feels like hours to have Magnus’ warm and bare cock resting against the dip of his hole. “I’m rea—”

_Oh._

Alec grits his teeth against the initial burn, all the air pushing from his lungs as Magnus slides into him in one slick, inexorable stroke. It’s— god, so tight, Magnus cock inside of him stretching him wide. “Yes,” he gasps, shuddering when Magnus pulls back and adjusts his stance before he thrusts back in, his hands curling around Alec’s shoulders for leverage, hard enough to leave bruises.

Yes, this is everything, Alec wants to say, but all that comes out is a breathless whine that fogs the up the polished wood under his cheek. Feeling Magnus move inside him and carving a space for himself, pleasure sparking and winding tighter every time Magnus’ cock drags across his prostate, gasping out obscenities and praise every time Alec’s hole spasms and contracts around him.

_So tight, so good for me._  My _Alexander._

Alec aches with it, mind and body, heart pounding with every muttered endearment. His hips are chafing against the sharp edge of the table, his hole is hot and sore around Magnus’s cock, and he clenches down hard, tries to hang on to that feeling of being split open a little longer even if he can feel himself going to pieces bit by bit with every thrust.

“Fuck, _there_ ,” Alec bites out when another shard of pleasure skitters through his body, but it’s no use. He’s not going to come without a touch on his cock, not when he’s like this, his mind already high on lust and _Magnus_ and his body strung too tight to catch up. All he can do is pant out his pleasure while his cock bobs uselessly between his legs and take it.

It’s almost a relief when Magnus comes with a soundless cry that leaves Alec trembling. He feels Magnus pull his cock back with a tight, wounded sound, hears his fist working as he wrings his cock dry and paints Alec’s hole with the last drops of his orgasm.

Alec twists his hips, quickly unraveling at the seams with every splash of wetness, and then Magnus’ hand curls around his cock— _fucking finally_ —jerking him quick and hard, scraping a nail (deep red, Alec remembers) over his slit, and it’s that small hurt that sends Alec flying. He comes with a shout, his orgasm ripping through him like lightning, sharp and clear like it’s drawn out of very depths of his body.

He’s still trying to work out how to use his tongue, his blood rushing in his ears so loudly he almost misses the dull thud behind him.

“Show me!” Magnus demands, quiet and raw.

If Alec could get physically hard, those two words would be enough. He sucks in a shuddering breath and slowly reaches back, his ass flaring with heat when he palms his cheeks and pulls himself open. Alec has never done this, but he’s watched Magnus do it often enough to know how to drop and angle his hips, how to contract his inner muscles until he can feel the first glut of come seep slowly out of him.

He doesn’t expect the soft rasp of Magnus’ tongue over his hole, lapping at his own come and pushing it back inside. It’s so intimate that Alec’s breath wheezes out of him. He digs his fingers into the inside of his cheeks, holding himself open as Magnus licks him out, slow and lush, suckling at Alec with a soft, hungry mouth until Alec shudders and chases the phantom of a second orgasm, pulsing under Magnus’ greedy lips.

He rides it until the very last second, only going limp and boneless when Magnus withdraws with a final luxurious lick over his hole.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks, rising and draping himself over Alec with a groan, resting his forehead between Alec’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Alec breathes. He reaches back and rests his palm on Magnus’ thigh, silently cataloging the numerous aches in his body. He’ll feel this for days unless he asks Magnus for a potion, but it’s worth it. Being with Magnus is worth everything.

“Yeah,” he repeats. “Never been better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on [Tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [twitter.](https://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


End file.
